


Thrillseeker

by PepperPrints



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-20
Updated: 2012-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:29:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperPrints/pseuds/PepperPrints
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnny Storm visits the Jean Grey School for Higher Learning, where Daken is settled in on a better path. ...supposedly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thrillseeker

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 31_days: "I'm only saved 'cause I'm tired of sin" (though it wasn't finished on time, so not posted there).

A lot of things had changed in the time that Johnny was considered 'deceased'. For one, the Charles Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters was now the Jean Grey School for Higher Learning, and its Headmaster was none other than Wolverine.

That was likely the bias that let Daken in.

The sympathy did not make his father blind, however. As Johnny knew it, Daken was in the process of proving himself. He was not an X-man, nor was he on the battlefield at all. He was working at the school, assisting, needing to be seen as an ally before anyone would trust him to guard their backs.

Johnny visited where he could, and as Logan told it, the response he saw in his son when he heard that Johnny was again alive and well was the most promising sign in him yet. Johnny didn't know about that, feeling mildly embarrassed but flattered to know it, and he understood the significance, while partially denying it. It was no big deal. Couldn't he be there for a friend? On a regular basis? Johnny just so happened to bring coffee every so often. Friends liked coffee.

Daken was working as an assistant to Rachel Grey, who taught foreign language. Johnny showed a bit early, right as the bells were ringing, and the hall was filling up with fleeing students. Even through the mess, he did spot Daken outside the classroom doors – and the student he was with – so he made his way closer, gradually getting into earshot.

“--and I know, Anole, that this is one of your better subjects, so why the daydreaming?” Daken was asking, and the boy, who looked very much like his namesake, fumbled on his answer. Daken smiled, obviously endeared, and his fingers began to toy with one of the small horns on Anole's scalp. “I wonder, if something has got you distracted, maybe...?”

Johnny cleared his throat, very loudly, and Anole jerked back, eyes wide, and Johnny was certain if his scaled skin allowed for blush, he'd be bright red all over. He muttered something, very quick and barely audible, and he hurried off again.

Daken turned to him, and smiled, as if nothing Johnny stumbled on had been questionable at all. “Hello, Johnny,” he greeted, and he reached out. “Is that for me?”

Unable to help a childish urge here and there, Johnny raised Daken's cup up, stretching out of his reach like a bully with a schoolbook. “What was that?” asked Johnny bluntly. 

“What was what?” asked Daken, and he sniffed once. “The one that reeks of more milk and sugar than coffee better be yours, not mine.”

“It's mine. Yours is green tea,” replied Johnny, who was well versed in carrying more than one conversation at the same time, his eyes a little narrow as he looked down at Daken. “And you know what I mean.”

“How sweet that you remember.” Daken smiled, in that way that wasn't a real smile, but meant to butter him up. Johnny was beginning to learn how to recognize looks like that. It was easy, when you realized how few genuine expressions there were. “Anole is a very bright boy who has been lost in another world most days now,” continued Daken, sounding oh so very concerned about it. “I decided to talk to him about it. We can't have his grades slipping.”

Johnny kept his frown. “Yeah, I pay attention. No idea what could be bothering him?”

“None at all,” began Daken, before he needlessly smoothed out his vest. “Except perhaps that he's a budding youth still coming to terms with his sexuality and his new and proudly queer teacher smells divine. May I have my tea?”

Johnny blamed the warm, fuzzy feeling in his stomach that probably didn't rightfully belong there when he handed it over. Logan had told him about the pheromones, and Daken didn't seem happy that his father was warning mostly everyone about what was usually the ace up his sleeve. 

“You did that on purpose,” accused Johnny bluntly, as Daken began to walk with him. His voice was mostly hushed, since the halls were still busy with students rushing out to lunch. “You knew I was coming today.”

Daken feigned a look of shock. “Johnny,” he said, as if scandalized, and he shook his head. “How could I have known the exact time you'd show up?”

“I'm betting you'd have let him follow you around like a puppy until I showed up,” said Johnny in a mutter.

“You wound me,” replied Daken, placing a hand to his chest. “Right here.” Daken had a pause, while taking the top off his tea. “Well, that is if--”

Johnny didn't miss a beat. They had this chat before.“If there was anything there?” he finished in a sigh.

“Precisely.”

The school grounds were quiet, and the walk that took them there was half silent. They found a place where it was empty and Daken sat with his back against the trunk of a thick, lone tree, where Johnny stood restlessly next to him.

“Sit,” invited Daken, blowing a little puff of air against his tea. “The ground's dry.”

“Not worried about the ground,” muttered Johnny, and he took a swig of coffee way too prematurely. It burnt his tongue, badly, and he struggled not to show it, since it would have spoiled his stubborn display. Still, he didn't think he could hide the internal scream echoing in his head from revealing itself on his face at least a little.

Daken rolled his eyes, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankles. “Johnny...”

“I'm serious,” he said, his now swelling tongue only fumbling on the word a little bit. “If you're trying to change than you shouldn't go around doing things like this! Like-- like you used to.”

There was an awkward pause then. Well, awkward for Johnny. Daken rarely seemed to care. When the truth in Daken was revealed to him: the villainy, the manipulation, Johnny had accepted it all, but he hadn't faced the questions. Were you manipulating me? Were you trying to pawn me? Did you care at all? Do you care right now? This whole thing, being here with your father, is that real?

Johnny would ask that, eventually, when he thought he could bear the answer. He didn't want to embarrass himself by asking, if he was embarrassing himself by coming here at all...

Daken, after a calm exhale, took a sip of his tea. “I'm not here because I want to change what I was,” he said.

Johnny blinked, his brows furrowing as he tried to make sense of the statement. Thankfully, Daken continued, whether it was something Johnny wanted to hear or not. “I'm here because I'm bored with what I was,” he clarified.

For a long moment, Johnny was not certain what to say. Daken sighed, as if incredibly taxed by needing to deal with Johnny's troublesome concern. “It was time for something new,” said Daken. “And in case you're wondering, daddy dearest knows how I feel already. We're talking now – which is entertaining enough.”

Johnny kept his ground, and he glanced down at Daken. “And when it's not entertaining anymore?”

Daken shrugged his shoulders, raising his tea to his lips. “Perhaps I'll try killing him again,” he answered, as casually as remarking on the weather. When he noticed the look on Johnny's face, Daken smiled up at him.

“Is that a joke?” asked Johnny warily, and Daken tipped his head back against the tree, grinning.

“I do like you, Johnny,” he said, and Johnny wasn't sure how far to trust that claim. “You've been very good to me.”

Johnny wished that compliment would have felt like one. “You like 'good' now?” asked Johnny, giving and sitting down near to Daken, cross-legged and scowling in poor humor. “Until good gets boring?”

Daken peered into his tea, apparently quite interested in it. “More or less,” he said plainly, and he slowly elaborated. “I was... uninspired, after having lost what I spent so long wanting. With Osborn, there was a thrill. Chasing my father was too, but the futile effort of trying to kill an unkillable man grows dry fast. So, here I am.”

Johnny remained skeptical, looking Daken over, and not missing how Daken wasn't looking at him. He knew what this meant. It would be a matter of time before Daken grew bored again, and lashed out in search of something that delighted him. “Teaching students is thrilling?” he asked disbelievingly, doubting how long this place could keep Daken's attention. “It's exciting to mark papers?”

“It's exciting to see you.”

Johnny paused. The statement was spoken so mildly that it didn't sound like it was very significant – except it was. Daken still hadn't looked up, seeming calm and unhurried as he drank his tea, gaze wandering over the grounds. Daken didn't want it to seem like he'd revealed something, like what he said was important, but if he was hiding it, why say it at all? 

Because a part of him wanted to, even if he didn't like admitting it.

Daken finally looked up, and he arched a thin eyebrow. “What?” he asked, inquiring about the big, stupid smile that had settled itself on Johnny's face.

Johnny set his coffee down on the ground, and he moved closer to Daken. “I can keep it that way.”

A thin smile showed on Daken's lips, and he chuckled near the rim of his cup. “Is that so?”

Johnny didn't entirely think things through with how forcefully he grabbed hold of Daken's tie and dragged him forward. The motion made Daken jerk, his cup falling from his hand, and Johnny's did not last much longer. His coffee was knocked over in kind when he pushed Daken flat on his back, shoving him down and pressing their mouths together.

Daken gasped and Johnny swallowed it up. Daken tasted like – predictably – tea and something richer, something Johnny couldn't name right away, so his tongue pressed deeper in search of more of it. The constant presence of the healing factor made Daken's skin impossibly soft, lips smooth and silky beneath his own. His hair felt similar, when Johnny tangled his fingers into it, only caressing for a moment before getting a grip and yanking, drawing out a sharp moan from Daken's throat.

“Exciting?” Johnny broke the kiss to gasp, shivering a little when he felt slender fingers touch his jaw.

Daken had the slightest bit of color on his pale cheeks, peering up at Johnny from beneath dark lashes. “I wasn't done with my tea,” chided Daken, being difficult on purpose, Johnny knew. Daken probably wanted to think that Johnny couldn't tell how breathless he was. He would be wrong. It was kind of obvious, and that made Johnny smirk with pride. 

“I can get you more tea,” he muttered, gently nipping Daken's lower lip to reprimand him.

“Good.” Daken grinned, and his arms stretched out around Johnny's neck. “But first, I'd like more of this.”


End file.
